


I Spy Baby

by mynameispiaivy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adult Harry, Adult Louis, Can you believe?, Domestic Fluff, F/F, I promise, Lost in the Woods, Love/Hate, Married Life, They sort of reminisce a bit, Zippo, and an RV, and have grand children already, but only for a moment, it's a girl direction by the way, just saying, oh my god too domestic, penlight, teenage girl larry, there's a storm, they are in their 40s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 16:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16498793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameispiaivy/pseuds/mynameispiaivy
Summary: “Wait, Lou. I have a penlight.”“A what?”“A penlight. You know, a pen with a small flashlight on it.”She could feel heat rising on her wet face. ”I know what a fucking penlight is?”“Well, I just thought it would be safer if we used a penlight instead of your lighter in this place. Something might catch fire, you know.” She says this matter of factly.Louis closes her eyes as she counts from one to five. “Okay, you’re right. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Now, use your damn penlight so we don’t trip on some dead person or animal inside here.”“It would smell if there’s a dead person in here, you know.”“Oh my god, Harry. Can you..just fucking turn on your damn penlight so we can see where we are going?”“Geez, you don’t need to shout. I’m practically beside you.”****Harry and Louis are lost in the woods.





	I Spy Baby

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to my beta megan @homosociallyyours. sweets, you are amazing. thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> my personal cheerleaders: Rope and Anchor GC girls. Yo! thanks for providing my daily dose of craziness. As if my life wasn't crazy enough, geez. 
> 
> The rockstars: ri, megan, and sea. You guys have no idea how glad I am of your support and encouragement. Still can't believe how much faith you have in me. True rockstars in my book.
> 
> say hi to me @missrefridgefreetorator on tumblr..promise, i don't bite (for now, teehee)
> 
> to Alvin..these words are always for you.

It’s the loud banging from their window that makes Harry’s right leg jerk, hitting Lou’s shin.

“Ow!” she hears her say.

She apologizes and quickly rubs Lou’s legs, softly patting the area where her knee had hit her sleeping wife. Faint whimpers come from Louis’ pursed lips as she burrows deeper into the cocoon of their sheets. _Honestly, a forty-nine year old woman, who still insists on having her chips in bed while drinking a cup of tea or Dr. Pepper_.

There are orange stained fingers peeking out from the edges of the cocoon, right beside Lou’s cheeks, the sight making Harry smile. She squints and rubs the back of her hands to her eyes, flicking off crusts with her fingers. _What time is it?_ The banging starts again, this time growing louder, with little voices shouting, “Grandma, wake up! Let us in, now,” reverberating from their garden. Louis elbows her, hitting her left boob.

“Louis, what the fuck?” Harry massages her chest furiously, gritting her teeth as she feels the phantom pain on her left boob.

“H, open the door now or Max will start throwing rocks at the windows.”

“Why me?”

“Who else would open the fucking door?”

She huffs, repeating the daily mantra in her head. _Forever and ever right?_ Her loud groan makes  Louis snicker.

“You’re lucky I love you, Lou. Go get that butt of yours off the bed too and make Eve and Max some pancakes.”

Her always dramatic wife starts kicking the blanket off of their bodies, toppling it to the foot of the bed before standing up and marching towards the en suite.

Today is definitely going to be a long day-- a long weekend to be exact. She stands up herself, reaches for the discarded blanket off the floor and puts it on top of the bed before she shouts , “Stop trying to break the windows. I’m coming out, you hooligans!”

 

Five days ago, their son Andrew called and said that he and Becca, his wife, will be going on a trip to Mexico for the weekend. Their son, an EMT, said that he was awarded three days vacation to Cancun by his boss for being on call for two weeks straight, having covered the shifts his best friend Greg had to leave while nursing his broken leg.

It was an accident, she remembered her son saying over the phone. The other team’s number eight was just relentless. Greg, being a big man himself, never stood a chance with the six foot eight behemoth.

Andrew and Greg are rugby players for the Orange County Ravens team in SoCal. Bruce, Andrew’s other best friend, manages and coaches the amateur team the boys play for. Andrew plays as the Fly half, Greg as the Number eight. The boys have been friends since they were in diapers, and have been playing rugby together since junior high. It came as no surprise when they became interested in Rugby since Louis was-- and still is-- the assistant coach for the school’s girls rugby team and the team manager for the Fullerton Wolfpack.

Everyday, she would go and watch her wife teach them the basics of the game until they grew stronger and more agile than Louis. Eventually, she decided it would be better if they attended summer training with other boys their age. During junior high, the boys became teammates at the local high school, playing until they got into college. All of them getting scholarships to become varsity players at Soka University.

Bruce, being the best player of the three, became a professional rugby player even before he graduated. For eight years, The Tomlinsons got a season pass to all of Bruce’s games in California. The Horans, Paynes and Tomlinsons all gathered in two RVs, doing some sort of caravan whenever Bruce’s team played locally.

Last year, Bruce decided to retire from the professional league to take care of his family business. Since then, he became the manager of the amateur rugby team Andrew and Greg are playing for. Supporting and helping each other out through good and bad times comes as naturally to them as if they were brothers. It doesn’t hurt that Greg is married to their daughter Olivia, who is now pregnant with their first child.

“Yoo hoo, Grandma! I can see you?” Harry whips her head towards the sound of the menacing voice. Two big blue orbs peer desperately from their window, little hands knocking on the glass. Carl, their nine year old bordoodle starts whining, obviously disrupted from his sleep, or maybe hungry or just plain anxious of their little guests. A loud chuckle escape her lips. This is definitely going to be a long weekend.  

 

Two cups of black coffee, three steaming cups of tea for Lou, one glass full of milk for Eve and Max with two servings of pancakes with whipped cream and blueberries later, they find themselves sitting in front of the television watching Paw Patrol.

“Sweetheart, do you want to go inside the room so you can lay down a bit with Max?”

Louis is sitting on one of the arms of the couch. Their two year old grandson Max, lays his head on top of Louis’ bosom, his face showing signs of lethargy. His little fingers curl on the sleeves of her grey hoodie, clasping it a bit tightly, like he is afraid of falling. She takes a moment to turn down the volume as she sees one of the animated characters, Marshall, tripping over some tennis balls on the screen. She finds Max’s legs wrapped around Louis’ hips as her right hand hook under his padded bottoms. Harry extends her arms, trying to reach the very peaceful looking duo. Her hands only reach the brown mop of curls of her grandson’s head, the tips of her fingers gently caressing his cheeks. “You want to lay down with Grams for a moment? You don’t look comfortable, baby.”

“Harry, I think he is just about to fall asleep,” Louis says as he snuggles impossibly closer to her body, his face showing pure contentment where it rests on top of the soft mounds of Louis’ chest. “I’ll just sit on the couch with you two. Don’t want to disturb him. Eve darling, can you scoot a little bit?”

She fluffs a pillow and puts it on the back of the couch, pushing it slowly to the left side of the couch. Louis moves as gently as she can as she sits butt first, her legs straining to control her movements, careful not to awaken her fragile baggage.

“Grandma, I’m bored.” Eve says this as she turns off the TV. “Can we do something else?”

“What do you want to do, sport?”

“I want to play I-Spy.”

“I-Spy, in here? Or do you want to go outside for a bit? We can walk around while Max and Grams are napping.”

The ringlets of her hair bounce as she shakes her head. “No, Grandma. I wanna stay here.” She tucks her legs under her thighs, and rest her arms over them. “We can play here. I promise, I’ll use my quiet voice.” To prove her point, she then proceeds to put her index finger on the top of her puckered lips. “Sshhhh, quiet voice only. I promise.”

“Alright, sweetie. You want to start?”

“Yes, please.” Her eyes rove around the small room, her sight landing on their living, softly snoring to the trip hazard, black and white furred Carl, laying under the rickety center table. “I spy dirty paws.”

 _Damn it, Carl. How did you get mud on your paws like that? Wait, is that mud?_ The substance matting the fur of his paws looks suspiciously like some sticky liquid, as if he had licked his paws clean with something blue and delicious. The pancakes. Max may have given some to Carl while they were eating breakfast. She hides her smile as she pretends to look around the room, the impending task of bathing Carl looming in her horizon while the forty-five pound rascal sleeps belly up two feet away from them, oblivious of the game they are playing. “I don’t see no dirty paws.”

“Grandma, concentrate! I spy a blue collar with a huge C hanging on its front.”

This time, she cracks a smile. “Oh, I see it now. It’s Carl.”

“Good job, Grandma.” She abruptly says, then shushes herself. “Quiet voice, promise.”

“My turn.” Harry’s gaze wanders slowly. The first thing she sees are her feet, resting comfortably on top of the table. She notices her toe nails. _Alright, this is bad._ Four out of ten of her toe nails barely have polish on them, and one seemed to have an unusually bluish hue. _Jesus, did she hit her toe somewhere again?_ She silently curses her lack of coordination. Finally her eyes move to the opened window where she sees a small yellow bird perched on top of the window sill. “I spy Big Bird,” she says.

Eve huffs beside her, poking her arms with her fingers and saying, “You’re cheating. That is not a big bird, that’s a small bird, Grandma!”

“How am I cheating? What color is Big Bird?”

“Yellow.”

“What color is that bird?”

“Yellow. But that bird is not Big Bird. That bird is tiny.”

“Harry.”

“Yes, Lou.”

“Stop confusing Evie.” She smiles and gives her granddaughter a wink. “Can I join?”

“Yes, Grams. It’s your turn now.”

Louis plants a kiss on top of Max’s head before letting her eyes scan the room. “I spy an old picture.”

“Which picture Grams? Is it the big one?”

The big one is their wedding photo hanging on the corner of the wall opposite them, right beside the TV. They were both wearing white dresses, the smiles on their faces showing how much happiness they were feeling at the moment. Their bodies were facing each other, her hand holding a bouquet of flowers in front of her, while Louis had her hands clasped over Harry’s. Louis insisted on wearing a black blazer on top of her silk dress, a corsage pinned on the left side of her chest. Harry, on the other hand, had her off the shoulder eyelet dress on that her mom, Anne, sewed a week before the ceremony.

There were only a few guests. Their own immediate families, Liam, Niall, and Zaynie bore witness to the announcement of their undying love. She couldn’t believe their luck. Or is it tragedy? It all started with that god awful school field trip to Yosemite Park.

“No, love. There’s another old picture that I spy.” Louis slyly tilts her chin to the photo on top of the baby piano. It’s with them and Andrew. “I spy a happy baby.”

Harry scrunches her nose, remembering the moment the picture was taken. It was weeks after Louis gave birth to Andrew. They were both lying in a hammock, her legs dangling on one side. She had Andrew in her arms. His face shows such serenity, that it was literally impossible to imagine a few minutes before this picture was taken, his cries were echoing all throughout the house. Her eyes were half closed, trying to shield away from the soft rays of light touching the side of her face. It was almost dawn. They were busy the whole day, hosting a small celebration that morning that lasted until mid afternoon. Well, everyday has been and is a celebration in the Tomlinson-Styles household.

That particular celebration was due to Lottie just graduating from college. A few weeks after this shindig, she would start her job as an assistant editor in the lifestyle section of Elle magazine. There were probably fifteen people inside their house at that time, and the little sanctuary of their porch was the only refuge they could have. They had to take that moment of bliss before Andrew started to get restless again.

Louis, having just fed Andrew, lays languidly on her left side, her head resting on top of her shoulders. Her hands strokes the sparse blondish hair of their son as Jay took the photo. She caught them relaxing on the porch that afternoon when things were placid and Andrew was surprisingly calm. It was perfect. Her family is perfect.

“I see it,” she says blissfully.

“Grams, but you’re not looking at a photo. You’re looking at Grandma.”

“I know.”

    

****

“This is a nightmare.”

Louis’ feet are killing her. They have been walking for three hours trying to find the trail going back to the hotel. Why does she have to be stuck with Harriette Anne Styles? Was there a reason she had to help her take the most perfect photo on top of the Taft Point? Normally, she would just ignore her requests, being that she was comfortably minding her own business with Niall. Business meaning they were discreetly eating the emergency stash that Liam specifically says no one is allowed to eat until they are all safely inside the comforts of their hotel rooms.

Well the thing is, Niall got distracted with Hailee. Louis was about to happily eat the Hershey bar she pulled from the bottom zipper of Niall’s backpack, when he suddenly grabbed it from her hands to give it to Hailee. _Rude._ But she must admit, having ridiculously long legs would distract even the most butch lesbian in the world. Niall wouldn’t even stand a chance with Hailee strutting in front of him wearing those daisy dukes. Ugh, boys!

“Harriette, please. We’ve been walking for miles. You claim you know how to use a compass.”  With her frustration rising by the minute, she kicks an innocent stone that was laying peacefully at the foot of a Sequoia tree. It bounces to the adjoining trunk right in front of them, hitting it and making a soft thump. “For the love of god, tell me we are going the right way.”

Louis looks at her face. It appears to be in deep concentration, or is it constipation? Honestly, at this rate, she doesn’t know or even care. Her brows are furrowed, eyes intensely looking at the compass. She points the offending apparatus towards one direction, then to another. She then makes a grunting sound, like she discovered that the world was in fact not round, but is actually flat. She points it again to another direction and says, “Aha, I was right all along.”

“What do you mean you were right?” confusion written all over her face. She walks towards Harriette, her swift strides making up for her shorter legs compared to her companion’s absurdly longer legs. Not that she’s consciously looking at them, it’s just that, they’re right there, in front of her. Mocking her. She had to take extra steps just to keep up with her pace.

“Yeah, we go this way.”

She is not about to be bitten raw by mosquitoes in this park if they get stuck here tonight. Blindly, she follows the path that Harriette says will get them somewhere, anywhere for that matter.

Thirty-three minutes after, she is faced by the same stone she kicked from under the Sequoia tree her bum rested on. She sends dagger looks toward the girl sitting right across from her. “I thought you said you know the right way back to the trail? This is exactly where we were more than half an hour ago.” She snaps, couldn’t even help it if she tried. Her boots and socks are gritty with mud, brown specks reaching her calves and knees. Beads of sweat trickle from the side of her face, her hair drenched and plastered to her nape, her arms and legs glistening under the afternoon sun. To say that she is feeling filthy, sweaty, and not to mention exhausted would be an understatement. She wants to scream, frustration and rage filling her belly.

Harriette’s head hangs in between her knees, her arms wrapped around her folded legs. Louis’ question is met with a long silence, until she hears a sniffle.

“I’m sorry. I thought..” she sighs heavily, her head hidden at the crook of her arm and her muffled voice barely audible. “I miscalculated our steps. There was a turn that we should’ve taken..” Harriette suddenly looks up and then abruptly stands. She points her right index finger at the small hill about five hundred meters away from them. “See there? That’s where we should have turned left. That path would lead us directly back to the trail.”

“I can’t believe it. This should be written and chronicled in history.” She shook her head before throwing her head back and said. “Mark this day, missy. February 19, 1988, Ms. Harriette Anne Styles finally getting something wrong.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Harriette bites back.

Louis stands up slowly, dusting the dirt off her denim Bermuda shorts and leans her body on the tree. The corners of her mouth start to twitch. She narrows her eyes, tilts her head and smirks. “You, Miss I-Have-A-Four-Point-O-Average, is not as smart as you think you are.”

“What did you just say?”

This is the exact moment they feel it. The air around them begins to change, like it’s becoming thick with moisture. She hears howling from the distance. Not from a wild animal, she presumes, but from something strong and inevitable. _A Storm?_ The sky begins to darken, grey ominous clouds appearing, casting shadowy darkness to the forest. She notices the leaves fluttering from the strong gusts of wind and thunder rumbling somewhere, as a bolt of lightning cracks across the horizon. It starts with a slow pitter-patter until a steady sheet of rain begins to pour from the darkened sky. She feels nervous all of a sudden. They are nowhere near anywhere and they need to get out of here, fast.

“Harriette.”

“It’s Harry.”

“What?” she whips her head towards Harriette, or Harry. Whatever her name is.

“You can call me Harry.”

She looks at her like she grew a second head. “And it is important to you that I start calling you that now?”

“Yes. Because we’re friends.”

“We’re..” The trees begin to creak, the howling of the wind growing louder by the second. She starts to shiver, not from the cold, but from the danger that might befall them. Her heart pounds furiously against her chest. Instinctively, she pulls Harry’s hand and starts running.

“Where are we going?”

  
“Harry. I don’t want to die here and have my rotting body be eaten by wolves or a bear. If you know how to use your ridiculously long legs, this is the time to do it.”

The rain relentlessly lashes, large drops water on the surface of the earth. Mucks of mud enveloping their battered and tired bodies. Hand in hand, they run, sprinting through the darkened forest, not stopping even if they are going in no concrete direction. Minutes have passed, maybe hours, she isn’t certain, but with a stroke of luck, Louis spots an RV parked at the foot of the hill. A surge of hope swells in her core. She glances sideways to Harry, her long curly hair sticking to her face, a smile breaking as they approach the car. They make a dash for it, shouting frantically as they come closer.

“Help! Help!”

She reaches the RV first, banging her fists to the door as she shouts. “Please, we need help!”

“Lou, I don’t think anybody is inside,” she says as Louis peeks inside the window.

“Hello?” Louis asks. _Dead silence_.

She looks around the RV. There are scattered worn out steel chairs at the front of the vehicle, a lone child’s bicycle discarded on the side of the wheel. The windows, which at first she thought had curtains behind them, are actually darkened glass that may have been spray painted to prohibit harsh beams of light passing through them. The door, which she was hitting on incessantly a while ago appears to be in a jaunty angle, barely hanging on its hinges. She tries to take a whiff of the place, the damp air not showing any traces of smoke or freshly burnt wood. _An abandoned RV in the middle of the forest?_ It seems that the RV has been left here for ages. Louis’ imagination turns wild, the realization that they may also be in danger hitting her like a ton of bricks. _What if the reason this car was left here is because the owners were on the run?_   _What if the reason they ran is because they did some sort of crime, like murder?_ She shakes the thoughts away. There is nowhere else they can go. They can’t keep running going nowhere. They have to make do, and this is the only place she thinks will be safe for them to stay in for the night.The tumultuous rain doesn’t help her muddled thoughts.

It is what it is, she thinks. With resignation, she closes her fingers around the knob, twisting the handle to open the door. It swings freely, making a creaking sound as the rush of wind surges into the room. She holds her breath as she sets her foot inside.

“Louis, wait for me,” she hears Harry say as her trembling hand grabs Louis’ arm. “Don’t leave me out here.”

Through the opened entry way, they both reluctantly walk in, their bodies shaking from coldness and fear. The air feels stagnant, dry and musty. She squints her eyes, tries to make up anything out of place. And then she remembers something. Her fingers unzip the pocket of her backpack, the tips searching for the small square steel object. As soon as she finds it, she pulls it out and flicks the cover of her Zippo.

“Wait, Lou. I have a penlight.”

“A what?”

“A penlight. You know, a pen with a small flashlight on it.”

She could feel heat rising on her wet face. ”I know what a fucking penlight is?”

“Well, I just thought it would be safer if we used a penlight instead of your lighter in this place. Something might catch fire, you know.” She says this matter of factly.

Louis closes her eyes as she counts from one to five. “Okay, you’re right. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Now, use your damn penlight so we don’t trip on some dead person or animal inside here.”

“It would smell if there’s a dead person in here, you know.”

“Oh my god, Harry. Can you..just fucking turn on your damn penlight so we can see where we are going?”

“Geez, you don’t need to shout. I’m practically beside you.”

Harry now stands in front of her. She holds her arm out, her hand clasping the pen, pointing it in front of her like a wand. _Are you kidding me?_ She rolls her eyes at the absurdity. The penlight or the minuscule flashlight Harry is holding gives off a small speck of light, barely illuminating anything in front of them.

“You know what..” She brings her lighter out again and flicks it open. A red, yellow, orange light springs out from her Zippo. The flame glows, playing light shows as their bodies move in the dimly lit room. She sweeps her lighter in the small space where random artifacts and long forgotten personal effects can be seen. In front of them is a small coffee table and a built in bench with two discarded mugs and a plastic plate on top of it. There is a National Geographic magazine resting on top of the bench. Harry reaches for it and brings it closer to the light to read the words written on it. On the cover page, she sees a man whose face is covered with snow wearing a hooded fur winter coat. His face is concealed by a mask that extends from his jaw up to his nose, barely recognizable due to the flecks of snow covering almost the entirety of his face. The sight makes Harry shiver. 

“Hey, it says, volume 170, number 3, September 1986. This issue is like two years old, Lou.”

“Yeah.”

She hovers her lighter over to the left side of the room and sees a small refrigerator, a sink and a towel cascading at the edge of it. Louis moves towards the left side of the RV, the floor creaking as she walks, while Harry rummages through the discarded newspapers and books using her penlight.  At the far end of the room, she sees two doors. Taking a deep breath, she pauses before opening one of the doors, the squeaking sound it makes causing her to tremble.

“Lou, it looks like a family may have lived here. Louis? Where are you?”

A soft bump hits her on the back, Harry’s wet hair tickling her nape. She can feel her breath, warm against her cold skin. Louis exhales before speaking. “What did you find, Lou?”

The staleness of the air and dust welcome them as they enter the bedroom. A twin sized mattress lays at the center of the room, a yellow fleece blanket and a pillow found at the foot of the bed. There are few stuffed animals wedged at the head of the bed, and a Sony walkman sits in the middle of the mattress. A nature inspired calendar hangs on the right side of the room, with X marks on the days of the month. At the bottom of the bed, Louis sees a brown leather suitcase. She gives the lighter to Harry, as she kneels down at the foot of the bed and attempts to open it.

“I hope there are clothes in it. I’m fucking freezing,” she says, her teeth chattering. “I don’t want to die of hypothermia in the middle of nowhere.”

The suitcase has a layer of undisturbed dust. With her free hand, she wipes the surface where the locks can be found, and unbuckles the leather strap. Inside, she finds several garments that look as though they belong to two adult people. She starts taking one item after another out from the suitcase and laying them on the floor. There are two large sized t-shirts, a grey sweatshirt, boxer shorts, three pairs of panties, a bra, a night dress, two tanks tops and a size 4 jean shorts.

Louis looks at Harry, who’s standing beside her. She has got both her hands held out in front of her, one holding the Zippo and the other holding her useless penlight. _Why did she have to have that stupid penlight on when the lighter is doing a better job in brightening up the room?_ Her eyes scans Harry’s body, seeing that she’s soaked from head to foot. Drops of water roll down her skin, and her arms and legs are covered with goosebumps.

“You don’t happen to be a size 4, are you Harry?”

“Ehrm, I’m actually between a size 4 and a 6.”

“I think this will do. C’mon. Take your clothes off, change into this shirt and shorts.”

She hands her the items, as she discards her own clothes, grabbing the sweatshirt off the floor. Her body shaking when the cold air hits her skin.

“Lou, shit. Take your bra and panties off too. They’re still wet. Wearing them will keep you cold.”

She hesitates for a moment. No one other than her mother has seen her nude. A shadow looms on her right, and she sees a tall silhouette on the wall. Harry is stark naked beside her. She audibly gulps as Harry turns her body around.

“We have to keep warm, Lou.”

“I..”

Cold fingers brush furiously over her wet body, starting from her exposed shoulders down to her arms and legs. Harry’s ministrations send sparks of static electricity over her body. Her lips begin to quiver, not from the cold, but from the excitement of an unfamiliar hand touching her body. Louis closes her eyes as Harry’s hands wind around her back, her fingers unclasping her bra. Louis begins to quiver, a sigh escaping her lips.

“I just have to take this off. You’re still trembling, Lou.”

Louis takes it all in, as Harry keeps touching random places of her cold body. Her hands hook on the elastic band of her drenched panties.

“Harry, stop.”

“What?”

“Let me..I can do it.” Her eyes are fixed downward, not attempting a look at Harry. She pinches the tops of her panties, pulling the band down her legs. They pool around her bare feet, the soft fabric a reminder of her nakedness. Now that she is bare in front of Harry, there shouldn’t be a reason for her not to take a look as well.

Gradually, her eyes roam the figure in front of her, barely illuminated by the orange glow of light her Zippo provides. She gazes first on Harry’s manicured toes, going up to map the expanse of her long legs. The exposed skin is milky white, smooth, soft and hairless. It’s too silent in the room, the air still and waiting. She hears the pounding of her hammering heart: _Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub._

Her eyes skim further up, until they reach the mound of flesh in between her legs. Harry is all smooth, not even a trace of downy hair in sight. She sees Harry bring the lighter to her face then blow the flame off. Suddenly the room is enveloped by darkness. She drops the Zippo, which makes a thumping sound as it drops to the floor. Beside it is the almost forgotten penlight laying still, casting soft yellow light from its tip. She can barely see anything, yet she can still see everything. Louis tries to avert her eyes, but a hand suddenly reaches her face, making her jump.

“You can look.” Harry’s voice soothes her.

“I don’t know if I should,” Louis pleads as she closes her eyes. She is scared. This is all new to her. In all her twenty years of life, she has never felt this kind of attraction to another person.

Harry steps into her space, puts her hands to her arms, then pulls her close. They are standing chest to chest now, her hardened nipples touching Louis’ bare chest. She opens her eyes and is struck by bright, green emerald eyes looking back at her. She can’t look anywhere else.

“You can look, Louis. I want you to.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Slowly, she gives in, her eyes roaming freely to gaze at the expanse of Harry’s porcelain skin. There is static energy in the air, consciously telling her of their nakedness. The need to feel Harry’s velvety skin intensifies, heating the tips of her fingers. The faint light from the floor makes shadows of every divot and every curve of her body.

“Harry?”

“Lou?”

The moment is disrupted by a loud boom of thunder. As if by reflex, Harry’s hand moves to Louis’ middle, warm and soft, bringing their bodies closer, her arms molding around her body, as if protecting her. She isn’t holding her tightly, but she is holding her as if to say, _I’m here,_ _we’re okay._ Louis curls her fingers around Harry’s back, her hands resting just below her armpits. Harry hooks her chin on Louis’ shoulder, her cold cheeks brushing against her warm ears.They stay motionless like that, chests rising and falling, breathing in unison. In the cold of the night, all Louis feels is Harry, all warm and pliant in her arms.   

“We don’t have to do anything tonight, if you don’t want to.”  Harry murmurs.

“Okay.”

They could stay like this, embracing each other all night, sharing body heat. But the long day suddenly creeps into Louis’ body, her legs and feet tired and her muscles aching. They need to rest and find their way back at the crack of dawn.

“Maybe we could lie down and take a nap. It’s been a long day, Harry. As much as I want to cuddle you for the rest of the night, we both know we need to rest.”

Harry chuckle-snorted. Her shoulders began to shake.

“Tsk, I knew it was too good to last. You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Do what? Get stuck out in the middle of nowhere in a storm?”

“No, dummy. To hold you.”

 _Huh._ Louis purses her lips, her brow creasing as she fixes her eyes on Harry. She can’t even feign how confused she is at the moment. She blinks, refocuses. “Did you even know me before our class trip here?”

Harry bites her lip, nodding shyly. “I’ve known you for a while actually.”

“Have we met before?“

She shakes her head, little drops of water dribbling from her bare shoulder. “No, I don’t think you know me, but I know you: Louis Marie Tomlinson. Scrum half of the Claremont Foxes. I’ve seen you play a few times.”

“But...how---didn’t you just get into Claremont a few weeks ago?”

Harry’s cheeks start to turn pink, blooming in color as she scrunches her face. She looks away, quickly trying to cause a distraction by handing Louis the sweatshirt. “Ehrm, we better cover up. It’s freezing.”

Louis hangs back, gets the sweatshirt from Harry’s hands then loops her head first before putting her hands inside the sleeves. She allows Harry to compose herself, as she fidgets and clumsily puts on the shirt and shorts she gave her earlier. Louis can’t fight the smile that comes to her face.

“Look at you. You’re practically swimming in that shirt!”

And then she looks down at herself. Well, big is word, but ginormous would be a better description of what she is wearing. It’s like Louis is wearing a dress. A very unflattering, grey rack sack of a dress.

“Wait, I think I saw another shirt there. Let me..” Louis bends over, the sweatshirt hiking up, exposing her thighs up to her back side. She hears a gasp from Harry, can feel her heated eyes on her. Louis silently inhales then exhales. _What the fuck is going on?_

“Uhm..” Harry’s hand grabs her arm. “No. I think what you’re wearing is okay. I mean, you look really cute”

Louis grins. “Cute?”

“No, well...not that you’re not already, cute. It’s like..shit. Wait, hold on.” Harry slumps at the edge of the bed, pulls the neck of her shirt over her head. “Oh my god. Can you..Lou. Please, don’t look at me.”

“Are you a turtle?”

Harry’s long brown curls peek through the hole of her shirt. She pants and groans quietly. _Adorable._ Slowly, Louis tugs the shirt off her head and sits beside her.

“Hey, you don’t have to hide from me.”

Green eyes look back on her, earnest and vulnerable. They stare at each for what seems like hours until Harry drops her gaze and says, “I have the hugest crush on you. I’ve been going to your games with Hailee since last year.”

Louis’ mind is blank. Their last game was five months ago. She desperately tries to think when she noticed Hailee watching the game. Her eyes turn wide as saucers. “Wait, were you there when we played against the Trojans? Jesus, I thought I had a concussion when that scrum Betty tackled me.”

“Oh my god, I almost had a heart attack. You were on the ground for a few seconds, I thought..”

She plants a kiss on Harry’s pink lips. Louis spots the shock on Harry’s face before she can hide it. Every muscle of her body is frozen and still. _Oh no, did she read it wrong?_ Louis pulls back and searches Harry’s face, totally awash with confusion, like she couldn’t believe she made the wrong move. For a split second, Louis had turned her mind off and done what she thought Harry wanted too. _Fuck._  

She draws in a breath and then sighs.“Harry. I’m sor..”

Soft plush lips suddenly surge onto hers, hurried and bruising. Harry’s hands swarm around her body, clasping her torso. She yanks Louis up, hands winding under her legs. Louis let herself be positioned, all pliant under her unrelenting touch. Louis finds herself straddling her hips, her bare ass sitting on top of Harry’s clothed thighs.

“Fuck you’re so hot. You don’t even know how much..”

Errant hands keeps grabbing, pulling, wandering to regions inaccessible until that moment. They keep on kissing like this, like they’re hungry and the only source of sustenance is each other’s mouths. Louis’ body feels like it’s on fire. She pulls away, needing to take a breath, or maybe two. They’re panting, both of their mouths spit slicked, and their lips red and swollen. Her sweatshirt has risen up to her armpits, exposing her pert breasts and Harry’s shorts are pulled down to her knees, her shirt thrown on the floor. They’re a mess, but they’re a gloriously beautiful mess.

“I haven’t..”

“Me too.” Harry cuts her off. “You were the first person I’ve felt this way about before.”

“We can go slow. There’s no rush, baby.”

“Fuck, you’re so irresistible.” Harry groans, then rests her head at the crook of Louis’ neck. She can feel Harry’s heartbeat. _Lub dub. Lub dub. Lub dub._ Steady and strong. Hot breaths tickle her ears.

“Harry, babe?”

“Hhmm..”

“C’mon. Lets sleep.”

“It’s not fair. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Babe.” Louis plants butterfly kisses on her jaw, cheeks, nose, eyes and lips. She sits up and gently puts Harry’s hands to her hips. “We’ve got time. We don’t need to rush this okay?”

 

In the barely lit room, on top of the worn out mattress, they both lie down, Harry’s back against Louis’ front. Some of the unused clothes serve as their makeshift blanket to warm them up. She kisses Harry’s nape, her soft hair lightly touching the tips of her nose.

“I can’t believe I was so annoyed at you at first. You were this new transfer student, giving me the stink eye every time I so much said something during English class. I even asked Liam if you had a tic or something.”

Harry groans, then flips quickly to her side so that they’re facing each other. She pouts then huffs. “I wasn’t giving you the stink eye! I was trying to act cool.”

Tucking a wayward curled lock behind Harry’s ear, Louis wraps her hands around Harry’s middle and hugs her close. “We can talk about this tomorrow, yeah? I bet you’re tired. C’mon, let’s sleep.” As she says it, she feels arms around her waist, and she lolls her head to her chest.

“Okay,” Harry murmurs happily. Louis kisses the top of her head as a few minutes of soft breathing pass, until she finally feels Harry going limp in her arms. _This is fine._ They will be fine as long as they are together. Sleep envelopes her as the wind changes, the howling subsiding into whisper.

 

****

 

“Grandma, where is this photo?”

“Oh, that’s in Yosemite Park. Lou, remember this?”

They’ve long forgotten that they were playing, Eve distracted with the photographs hanging on their walls. She was jumping up and down, desperately trying to make Harry stand up and get the frames off the wall.

“Grandma, why is Grandpa Niall frowning in this photo?”

A loud laugh suddenly erupts from both Harry and Louis. Max, who was peacefully asleep  in Louis’ arms a few seconds ago, suddenly jolts then whines.

“Oh, sshhhh..It’s alright baby. It’s alright.” She gently pats his back, her body swinging side to side to lull her grandson back to sleep.

“Grams, quiet voice remember?”

Louis smiles at Eve then winks, before motioning to Harry to get Max’s baby bottle from the bag beside the couch. She unzips the diaper bag, finding the bottle nestled in between clothes, diapers and a few toys. Harry grips the cylindrical bottle, pulls it out of the bag then shakes it. The bottle is still warm against her fingertips. She unscrews the cover and hands the bottle to Louis. As soon as the tip of the nozzle touches Max’s lips, like on impulse, he puckers his lips and sucks the nub into his mouth. The fond face Louis is giving their grandson fills Harry’s chest with so much warmth and love. No words were spoken, but at that moment, she knew what she’s seeing-- pure happiness.      

“Grandma..grandma.” Eve asks as she pokes her dimples, trying to get her attention.

“Yes, Evie darling?”

“Grandma, you didn’t answer my question.” She whips the framed photo from her hands, handing her the pissed off face of their long time friend. “Why is Grandpa Niall looks so angry here?”

Harry gingerly rubs her fingers on the filigree adorning the frame of the photo. It shows Niall, wearing an orange parka over his fleece jacket, his 501s soaked with brown paste reaching up to his knees, and the hiking boots he’s wearing submerged in gritty muck. There are splatters of mud on his arms and face, his scowl paired with a raised middle finger standing proud and mighty towards the camera as Liam takes the photo.

“Long before your Dad was born, me, Grams, Grandpas Niall and Liam, and Grannies Hailee and Zaynie, went on a class trip together to Yosemite Park. We hiked for hours until we got to see Taft Point, which has the most beautiful view of the valley.”

“More beautiful than me, Grandma?”

“Nothing is as beautiful as you, sweetheart. But the view, it’s just majestic. You feel small when you get to see it. Grams, you see, has a very good heart. She helped me take a picture of the beautiful place.  I was asking her to take photos of me from this side and that side.” Harry stands up, swiftly moving from one place to another. “And she was so patient in taking good pictures of me. Until we realized, we were the only ones left at the point.”

She sits down again beside Eve as she moves on with the story. “There was a big storm coming and it was getting dark. We were both scared.”

“Did you cry Grandma?” Eve moves closer to her, putting her small hand over hers. “Grams will not let anything bad happen to you. She won’t, I know it.”

“Yes, sweetie. Grams is really smart. She got us into an abandoned RV where we slept until the storm stopped. The next day, Grandpa Niall and some of our friends searched for us high and low, ‘cause they would not let us miss the bus back home. They found us the next day, sunbathing next the RV.”

“But why is Grandpa Niall very angry, Grandma?”

Harry scrunches her nose then says, “Because they were so worried about what happened to us. They were very tired after looking for us, you see. But instead of Grams being glad we were found, she said that Grandpa Niall had to move out of the way, 'cause Grandpa was blocking the sun and was ruining her tan.”

Eve furrows her eyebrows, her mouth buckling. “Weren’t you scared, Grandma?”

“No, baby. Grandma wasn’t scared a bit. As long as Grandma is with Grams, she will never be scared.”

A light pat on her cheeks makes her look up. Louis, hovering beside her, with her grandson sleeping soundly in her arms, leans in and kisses her on the mouth. Warm, plump flesh brushes her upturned lips. Harry can’t believe how, after all these years, a single touch of Louis’ lips can take her breath away. She can’t look away now. Blue on Green. Forever and ever. She has all that she ever wanted. This is her life. And everything is perfect.

“Yes, baby. As long as we’re together. We will never be scared.”

 

 

 

 

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